


Sword in the Stone

by hunterswarlock



Series: With Magic and Merthur [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But also, Declarations Of Love, Dorks in Love, First Kiss, M/M, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Mostly Canon Compliant, Not Canon Compliant, Oblivious Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Oblivious Merlin (Merlin), Protective Merlin, Sorry Not Sorry, i literally followed the script so, the ending is pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 02:43:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21312859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunterswarlock/pseuds/hunterswarlock
Summary: Merlin was confused, to say the least. When he had told Arthur of his magic, he had half expected him to kill him on the spot or banish him right then and there. He certainly never expected Arthur to speak to him again, let alone look him in the eye as he did now. He felt as through the rug would be pulled out from under him at any moment, that Arthur would reveal it was a trick. But then, he could have killed Merlin right there and Merlin would have been okay. Arthur’s hands were warm on his and his gaze was gentle. Merlin could have died happy there.Arthur lifted his hand and wiped the dirt from Merlin’s cheek softly.I had a conversation with my friend as to what would have happened if Merlin revealed his magic to Arthur during Sword in the Stone, then of course I had to write it.(I don't own any characters or most of the plot only the changes I made)
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: With Magic and Merthur [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1561645
Comments: 25
Kudos: 857





	Sword in the Stone

Arthur awoke surrounded by trees and utterly confused. Looking down at himself, he found he no longer wore his armour but tattered and ill-fitting clothes. He thought back, his memories jumbled, and found he couldn’t remember how he had arrived in this position. He remembered Morgana attacking Camelot and stood in a panic. He grabbed his sword from where it was stuck in the ground next to him. His fighters instincts were reeling as he looked around, recognizing no one, until his eyes finally settled on Merlin’s sleeping form. He rushed over and kicked Merlin awake anxiously.

Merlin awoke to the feeling of someone kicking him. “You’d better have a damn good explanation for this, Merlin.” Arthur said lowly, attempting to be discreet. Merlin stared at him blankly, assuming the spell shouldn’t have worn off yet. Arthur began kicking him again, “Fine. Then I'll just carry on kicking you.”

“Arthur,” Merlin said scrambling to his feet. He inspected Arthur’s face and found no traces of the simpleton that had accompanied him the last few days. He breathed a sigh of relief, “You're back!” 

“What do you mean “I’m back”?” Arthur looked at Merlin incredulously, but he found as usual that he was vaguely concerned as he teased Merlin, “You’re talking gibberish again.”

“Listen to me, please,” Merlin pleaded, exasperated. Arthur looked at him with concern as he continued, but Merlin was too caught up in his explanation to notice. “Camelot is lost. You were injured in an attack, you passed out. I had to get you out of there.”

“Where are we now?” Arthur asked, calmly taking in his surroundings more.

“We’re heading north,” Merlin explained, “To a safe haven, to Ealdor. Hopefully the knights will meet us there.” Merlin's voice softened a touch at the mention of his former home and Arthur almost smiled before realizing he had no idea of the situation they were in.

“Who are these people?” He asked, finally.

“They’re, er… smugglers,” Merlin said, sheepishly.

“Smugglers?!” Arthur exclaimed. Merlin shushed him quickly, looking around anxiously. “Alright, let's assume for one moment, you actually know what you’re doing,” Arthur said, quieter this time. “It doesn't explain why I look like the village idiot.”

“It’s the perfect disguise,” Merlin smiled, proudly, “No one would ever suspect you of being, you know… who you are.” He shrugged, innocently. 

Arthur looked down at his clothes again, “I’m sorry, Merlin. I’m not going around looking like this.”

“You have to,” Merlin insisted, “You've got to stay in character.”

“You!” Someone called. Arthur stiffened again, his posture having relaxed as he spoke to Merlin. Merlin seemed to remain impassive as the smuggler spoke to him. “We leave as soon as the horses are watered.” The smuggler looked at Arthur, who was standing at Merlin’s side, “Explain it to the simpleton, would you?” The smuggler turned away and Arthur looked at Merlin, who smiled sheepishly before picking up Arthur’s sword. They started toward the smuggler's wagon and Arthur grabbed his sword back, defensively. There was no way he was going to unarmed and surrounded by smugglers. “Simpleton,” the smuggler, Tristan, called.

“He’s talking to you,” Merlin whispered, knowing Arthur was about to put up a fight.

“I don’t answer to that name.” Arthur argued, sharply. _ How disrespectful _, he thought.

“In character,” Merlin reminded him. Arthur huffed. “Remember?”

The smuggler approached them looking at Arthur’s sword. “Impressive piece.”

Arthur glanced at Merlin, who looked at him pointedly. “Thank you, sir,” Arthur said putting on a stupid voice. 

“May I?” Tristan asked. Arthur handed over his sword, reluctantly. He hoped Merlin knew what he was doing with these smugglers. “Magnificent. The only place you find workmanship of this quality is in the royal forge of Camelot,” Tristan levelled the blade at Arthur’s throat. “Tell me, how did you come by it?”

“I won it in a card game.” Merlin interjected, “Gave it to him as a present. He won't be parted from it,” Arthur was almost impressed at how smoothly Merlin lied to the smugglers . “Makes him feel safe.” 

“I hope for your sake that’s true,” Tristan handed Arthur his sword back. Arthur took it dumbly, grumbling inwardly, pretending he didn’t know how to hold a sword. “I’d hate to think I was riding with a knight of Camelot.”

Arthur hugged his sword to his chest and put on a stupid voice again, “Aye.”

The blond woman at Tristan’s side giggled, “Knight of Camelot?” She scoffed, “Look at him.” Arthur was fuming on the inside, he was the King, _ their King _! 

“You’re right,” Tristan remarked, “The knights may be stupid, but they’re not that stupid.” Arthur wanted to protest but reminded himself of what would most likely happen to him and Merlin if they knew who he was, so he put on a stupid grin. Merlin ruffled Arthur’s hair, laughing along with Tristan and Isolde. He knew how hard it must be for Arthur to hear how people spoke of him and the knights.

“Pack your things, simpleton!” Merlin exclaimed loudly as they walked away. 

“Call me that again and I’ll run you through.” Arthur muttered quietly to Merlin, fake smile plastered to his face. They both knew how empty the threat was, but neither commented on it.

“Don’t worry, sire,” Merlin said sympathetically. He knew Arthur well enough to know Arthur would be upset by what the smugglers said. “I’m sure you won’t have to keep it up for too much longer.”

“How long?!” Arthur exclaimed, exasperated. As he said that a smuggler walking by them collapsed, an arrow lodged in his back. Arthur grabbed Merlin’s shirt, instinctively, pulling him away from where the smuggler had stood. Another arrow landed in the tree next to Arthur’s head and he ducked, moving Merlin with him. Merlin didn’t have time to dwell on how he himself touched by the gesture as they ran to hide behind the smugglers wagon. Arthur started calling out orders. ‘_ Finally _ ,’ he thought, ‘ _ Now this I can handle _.’

* * *

That night, Merlin and Arthur sat by the fire as Tristan and Isolde slept nearby. “You knew,” Arthur said finally, “You knew Agravaine was betraying me.” He thought back to the times Merlin had tried to warn him and felt guilty for not believing him. He had wanted to trust his uncle so badly. He was his only remaining family that, he thought, didn’t want to kill him for the throne, but Merlin had been right. He should have known there was no one he could trust more than Merlin. 

“I couldn’t be sure,” Merlin said softly. He hated that he had been right. “But then, I did have my suspicions.” 

“I feel like such a fool.” Arthur sighed, “I put such trust in him. All this time I was as blind to his treachery as Morgana.”

“You were deceived Arthur,” he knew as he spoke that statement wouldn’t make Arthur feel any better but he didn’t know what else to do. “That could happen to anyone.”

“Yet it keeps happening to me.” Arthur argued defeatedly, “I cared about these people. I… I don’t understand. What have I done wrong? Why do they hate me?”

Merlin knew Arthur wasn’t just talking about Morgana and Agravaine as he spoke and felt a twinge of pain at that fact. He thought back to watching Arthur and Gwen’s relationship grow and while he had tried to help them in the beginning, he had grown to be rather confusingly jealous and hurt by the end. He knew he no longer had feelings for Guinevere, that small crush had ended long before she had begun a relationship with Arthur. However he thought he couldn’t possibly have feelings for Arthur.

“No they don’t hate you.” Merlin said reassuringly, “They just… crave your power for themselves.”

“Perhaps,” Arthur shrugged, “Would they still want that power if I was the king my people deserve? Maybe Tristan is right-“

Merlin cut Arthur off swiftly, “Tristan was angry...” Merlin hesitated, glancing at Tristan and Isolde. He felt a pang of longing watching the two of them, “and afraid. He needed someone to blame, but it’s not you that’s to blame.” He shook his head, certainly.

Arthur felt uncertain but Merlin’s assurance eased him slightly. “You seem very sure about all this.” He worried he may seem weak for questioning this, his father certainly wouldn’t have, but in that moment Arthur simply wanted his friend’s advice. He knew, no matter what, that Merlin would tell him what he needed to do.

“All I know is that, for your many faults, you are honest and brave and true hearted,” Merlin paused slightly, weighing the idea of letting Arthur in on the destiny they shared, but ultimately deciding, “and one day you will be the greatest king this land has ever known.”

What felt like the weight of the world lifted from Arthur’s shoulders. He smiled softly, “Well… good to know I have the support of my servant at least.”

“I’m not alone,” Merlin said firmly, “Believe me.” He was glad to see Arthur smiling again, he felt as though it had been ages.

Merlin could not have been more relieved to finally arrive in Ealdor the next day. He had left Arthur, reluctantly, in bed inside his house to reunite privately with Guinevere. He had pointedly ignored the pang of jealousy that he felt while shutting the door.

“How’s she been?” Merlin asked his mother finally. For all his confusing jealousy, Merlin had spent a lot of time worrying about Gwen since she left Camelot. Though their friendship was not what it had once been, Merlin still cared for her very much.

“As well as can be expected,” Hunith answered softly, she too had grown fond of Gwen in the time she had spent in Ealdor. “But… a broken heart takes time to mend.” And if Hunith took note of the sad, knowing look on her son’s face, she didn’t say a word.

Merlin feels as though he’d been doused in cold water when he hears screams from within the village. “Agravaine.” He tells Hunith, rushing inside, “He’s found us.”

“Any suggestions?” Tristan asks, once Arthur has his chainmail back on (possibly the fastest Merlin has ever been). 

“Round the back.” Merlin instructs them hurriedly, rushing them to the back door of his small house. He lets them leave before turning back towards where Agravaine is and casting a spell, which sends a cart rolling towards him. 

“There!” Agravaine shouts, “Get them!”

The group of them ran through the woods, Tristan supporting Isolde, as fast as they could. They approach the cave tunnels and Merlin shouted, “I’ll cover our tracks, you keep going!” He turned away from then, running again. He shouted for Kilgharrah in dragon speak until he spotted the Southrons. He headed back towards the caves with no sign of Kilgharrah. He heard the beginnings of a dragon’s roar as he ran into the caves, smiling to himself.

“Did you lose them?” Arthur asked as soon as Merlin caught up to them. Merlin thought it was vaguely inconsiderate, in a usual Arthur sort of way, but Arthur was mentally scanning Merlin over for injuries from the moment he could see him. 

“It’s safe.” Merlin replied, imagining Kilgharrah swooping down over the Southrons.

“You sure?”

“Do I look like an idiot?”

“Yes.” Arthur shrugged, finally concluding that Merlin was in fact perfectly fine.

“Doesn’t change does it?”

“Which way now?” Merlin looked around confusedly before shrugging to himself. “I thought you said you grew up in these tunnels?” Arthur pressed.

“I did,” Merlin protested, “Just-- it could be that way…”

“Or it could be that way.” Arthur finished exasperatedly.

“Yes.”

“That’s very reassuring.”

They eventually decided which path to take and it wasn’t long before they stopped again, hearing movement behind them. “I thought you said we’d lost them.” Arthur said quietly, there was a small comfort in poking fun at Merlin, like falling into a familiar routine.

“I thought I had.” Merlin replied, which just made Arthur feel uneasy again.

“It won’t take long for them to catch us,” Tristan interjected.

Merlin nodded his head decidedly. He knew he was the only one who could take on the following army of Southrons and survive it. “I’ll go back.”

Arthur’s. 

Heart.

_Stopped._

“What are you gonna do?” He forced out, trying to make Merlin stop and stay with the group. 

“Create a diversion.” Merlin shrugged, almost casually, and Arthur reached out to stop him. The move was completely instinctual, his whole being screaming for Merlin to stay with him.

“It’s too risky.” 

“I know these tunnels and Agravaine doesn’t. You keep going.” And with that Merlin handed Arthur his torch and made his decision. He may not have known what it was that he felt for Arthur but he knew that if he was going to risk his life for something, Arthur would be it. Every time.

“Merlin…” Arthur wanted to say something more, something heartfelt but settled for, “Don’t do anything stupid.” And hoped it was enough.

“Me?” Merlin laughed in an impossibly bright, ever so Merlin-like way, before taking off into the tunnels. Arthur stood there for a moment, conflicted as he’d ever been, before following after the others. 

Merlin found the Southrons easily, with only a little magical help, and stopped to take a breath before turning the corner to face them. “Oh hello!” He exclaimed brightly, causing them all to look at him, before taking off down one of the other tunnels. Merlin ran until he felt like his lungs would collapse before hitting a dead end. Swearing internally at himself, he stopped to catch his breath before Agravaine and the Southrons approach from behind him.

“Merlin. Merlin?” Agravaine repeated when Merlin doesn’t turn to face him. Merlin turned, a pit in his stomach. He knew now that either they made it out of these tunnels or he did and if they made it out, they’d make it to Arthur. Merlin couldn’t risk that. “Where’s Arthur?”

Merlin shook his head sadly. “Be careful.” He warned.

Agravaine looked confused. “What are you talking about?” He asked impatiently, “Where’s Arthur?” Merlin shifted his feet, he knew what he needed to do but that didn’t mean he wanted to. “Tell me. Now.” Agravaine ordered, “Or I’ll have to kill you.”

Merlin shook his head sadly. He was out of options. “I don’t think so,” Merlin said, decidedly. Agravaine took a step towards him and Merlin’s eyes flashed, sending them all flying backwards. He stepped forward to inspect them and Agravaine woke, gasping. He sat up, looking at Merlin. Merlin lowered his head, then changed his mind and looked Agravaine in the eyes. He fixed him with a noble look he’d seen Arthur give his enemies many times.

“You have magic.” He stated obviously.

“I was born with it.” Merlin said the words with so much force that the cave seemed to fill with it. He found a small sense of relief in saying it out loud finally after so long. 

Agravaine stood, watching Merlin, and all of the sudden his face seemed to light up. “So it’s you,” he said quietly, “You’re Emrys.”

“That is what the druids call me.” Merlin ground out.

“And you’ve been at court all this time? At Arthur’s side.” He started laughing, almost hysterically, “How you’ve managed to deceive him. I am impressed Merlin.” Merlin shuffled again. “Perhaps we’re more alike than you think.”

Agravaine reached a hand out to Merlin, but Merlin raised his hand as though to strike him with magic. Agravaine’s smile faded, he gestured submission and Merlin lowered his hand. Agravaine whipped a knife out with his other hand to attack Merlin, but Merlin was faster. His hands shot out, his eyes flashed and Agravaine was blasted backwards. He landed, eyes open, and lay there motionless. Merlin knew it was over. He drew a deep breath before turning and walking away, feeling like his heart had turned to stone.

Arthur stopped and turned to look down the tunnel behind him, feeling as though his whole being is being pulled in that direction. 

“What are you doing?” Tristan asked him impatiently.

Arthur shushed him, listening for what caused what he assumed was just his battle instincts. The rocks around him shook and a cold hand began to claw at his racing heart. “Merlin.” Arthur blurted, without even meaning to.

“He knows the tunnels,” Tristan said reasonably, trying to urge Arthur forward, “He’ll find his way.”

But Arthur didn’t hear him. He couldn’t shake the hollow feeling growing in his chest. He couldn’t lose Merlin. “I’m going back,” He said, walking past the others before they could say a word.

“For a servant?” Tristan exclaimed confusedly.

Gwen watched Arthur go with a knowing look, “You’re wrong about him.”

Arthur heard someone coming down the tunnel and readied his sword. “Merlin!” A rush of air seemed to fill his lungs, as though he could finally breathe. “Where have you been?”

Merlin hadn’t even realized Arthur was coming, everything seemed blocked. His blood was boiling and his chest felt hollow, though his heart was heavy and hardened. Upon seeing Arthur, almost running into him in fact, his senses began to come back to him. “Were you worried about me?” He asked, softening. 

“No,” Arthur lied dumbly. He knew he had never felt more relieved in his life, but he’d never admit that to Merlin. The age old practices Uther had ingrained in him held true; he always told him that an emotional king was not a good king. “I was making sure we weren’t followed.”

“You came back to look for me,” Merlin pressed, teasing. He felt human again. His senses were coming back, and he slipped into the familiarity of Arthur’s friendship

“All right, it’s true,” Arthur sighed. The relief had overtaken him and his walls came tumbling down. _ This is Merlin _, he thought, he could be real with Merlin. “I came back cause you’re the only friend I have and I couldn’t bear to lose you.” Arthur almost regretting saying it at all, but Merlin’s face softened and he knew he was okay.

Merlin felt as though he was on fire, his feelings coming back to him all at once. _ Arthur _, he had done this for Arthur. He’d do it again if that’s what it took to protect him. “Really?” He questioned, pressing on further. 

Arthur smiled softly before turning back down the tunnel. “Don’t be stupid,” he called over his shoulder. Their smiles could have lit the whole cave as Merlin followed Arthur, both of them filled with their own relief. Merlin stopped suddenly, stumbling, and Arthur laughed. He was unaware that Merlin had finally come to the most important realization of his life. The realization that would change his life forever, should it ever get out. 

_ He loved Arthur Pendragon. _

What was worse, in Merlin’s opinion, was the other realizations that accompanied the fact that he loved Arthur. The feeling he had felt seeing Gwen and Arthur had been jealousy, that he wanted nothing more than to tell Arthur how he felt, and even worse yet that if he told Arthur how he felt he would have to tell him about his magic. 

“So, where now?” Tristan asked as they finally reached the other side of the mountain. They were a mess of various injuries, Arthur was holding his wounded ribs and Isolde was being almost entirely supported by Tristan. 

“To the plains beyond the mountains.” Arthur said decisively.

“You sure?” Tristan questioned, “That’s Lot’s kingdom. He’s no friend of the Pendragons.” He looked at Arthur, quizzically.

“Well, maybe we could find somewhere here. A house where we could rest,” Gwen spoke up. She was clearly trying to take the blame off of Arthur and defend him subtly. It was so unsubtle, and such a terrible idea, that Merlin almost rolled his eyes.

“We’re fugitives,” Tristan stated, “A danger to anyone who harbours us.”

“He’s right,” Merlin spoke up, “We must travel back towards Camelot.” He glanced at Arthur, who had been avoiding his gaze for that exact reason.

“No,” he argued, “We need to keep going.”

“If we hold up in the Forest of Essetir, we’ll be safe,” Merlin reasoned, “At least for a while.”

Arthur knew Merlin was right, as always unfortunately, but he was afraid. Though he’d never have admitted it he couldn’t help but feel as though he had failed his people, he had let Morgana take the throne. He had trusted Agravaine even when Merlin, Merlin of all people, had told him not to. “No.”

“If anyone has survived this battle,” Merlin persisted, “That’s where they’ll be hiding.” Arthur finally caught his eye and Merlin looked at him reassuringly, but determinedly. 

“I know which I’d do,” Tristan interjected, “You’re the king, Arthur. You’re our leader…”

“All right,”Arthur sighed, breaking his eye contact with Merlin, “Forest of Essetir it is.” Merlin stared after Arthur as he walked away. 

When they had finally settled into the Forest of Essetir, Arthur set about helping Tristan to collect firewood. “Well well well, look at you.” Tristan spoke snidely after a moment of awkward silence, “First you go back to rescue your servant,” Arthur’s head was still spinning a little with the image that had rushed into his head when he had heard the noises in the cave. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. “Now you’re getting your hands dirty. But then again, why shouldn’t you? You’re just like everyone else. There’s nothing special about you, is there?” Tristan continued, landing on all the right buttons to push.

“Well, maybe you’re right.” Arthur conceded softly, “Maybe I don’t deserve to be king.”

“Well, that’s alright, cause you’re not.” Tristan said bluntly. Arthur almost dropped the wood he was carrying. “Not anymore.” Then he strutted off without another word. Arthur was really, truly reeling with it all. He tossed the wood aside, frustratedly, running his hands through his hair. He started walking, determined to clear his head. He barely heard Gwen calling after him until she grabbed his arm. He stopped abruptly and spun around to face her. 

“Don’t.” Arthur exclaimed, and Gwen pulled back. “What happened in Ealdor was a moment’s weakness.” Gwen flinched back, “What you did to me… Everything I cherished between us, everything we had, it’s gone. That’ll never change.” On top of everything else, he couldn’t shake the feeling that had clung to him since that moment, that things with Gwen just didn't feel right anymore. He thought it was just betrayal, that he was still angry with her, but he slowly realized it was something deeper than that. He just couldn’t quite put his finger on it. 

Merlin and Arthur were lounging by the fire that night and Arthur still couldn’t quiet the whirlwind happening in his mind. He crossed his arms as he sat, puzzled and saddened. 

“Come on, I’ll take watch.” Merlin said, but it went unnoticed by Arthur. “Arthur, what’s the matter?” Merlin asked, and Arthur finally looked towards him. “Don’t listen to Tristan, he doesn’t know you.”

“I trusted the wrong people.” Arthur said, quietly.

Merlin shook his head, “They betrayed you. That wasn’t your fault.”

“No. I was a fool.” Arthur argued, “I misjudged everyone… my uncle… Morgana. Every decision I’ve made has been wrong.” 

“You’re not.” Merlin argued softly, “You’re a worthy king.” Merlin knew this, of course, because he knew Arthur was really the “_ Once and Future King who will unite the lands of Albion _” though he couldn’t tell Arthur why he knew that. 

“I’m good with a sword,” Arthur lamented, “That’s all.”

Merlin felt so immensely sad for Arthur in that moment. Being Arthur’s manservant had given Merlin an exclusive look into the life of a crowned prince, a knight, and finally a king. He had always known there was an enormous weight on Arthur’s shoulders, and though he tried to ease it and help Arthur where he could it would never be enough. “Your people love you.” Merlin said, finally. _ As do I, _ he almost continued, before stopping himself. 

“Most of them are dead,” Arthur replied, missing the almost startled look on Merlin’s face as he continued to brood. “Thanks to me.”

“No, most of them escaped,” Merlin said declared, “They’ll be here in the forest, I’m sure of that.”

Arthur didn’t want Merlin to be right though. Because if they were in the forest, Arthur would have to face them. “Well, if they are, they’ll have to find themselves a new king.” Arthur couldn’t bare to see disappointment in Merlin’s eyes too, so he got up and walked away. He could hear Merlin calling after him but he couldn’t face it.

When Merlin woke Arthur he had a solid plan formulated in his mind. Arthur would believe in himself again, Merlin was determined of that if nothing else. Talking to Kilgharrah the night before had given him an idea, for once, of what he needed to do.

“What?” Arthur asked, grumpily, at being woken up.

“There’s something I need to show you.” Merlin said. He turned and walked away and Arthur sat confused for a second before grabbing his sword and following him.

“This had better be good because this really isn't the time for one of your ridiculous games.” Arthur grumbled, following Merlin through the forest anyway.

“I was thinking about last night and how you were saying how you'd given up all hope, how you were a poor leader and a shoddy king,” Merlin replied, slipping once again into the familiar routine of teasing Arthur.

"Shoddy?” Arthur repeated, doubtfully

“All right, shabby."

“Thanks”.

“Well, it reminded me of a tale Gaius once told me,” Merlin started.

“Merlin, I'm really not interested in your favourite bedtime stories.” Arthur was tired, and grumpy, and he didn’t want to hear what he thought was going to be more of Merlin teasing him. 

“For once in your life, just...listen.” Merlin sighed. Arthur held his hands up in surrender. Merlin continued “Many years ago, before the birth of the five kingdoms, this land was in an endless cycle of bloodshed and war, but one man was determined to end all that. He gathered together the elders of each tribe and drew up plans for the lands to be divided. Each would respect the others' boundaries, and drew it over the land as they saw fit. That man was Camelot's first king, ancestor to all that followed, including you, Arthur.”

“Bruta,” Arthur interjected.

“You know the story.”

“Yes, every child in Camelot does. Can I go back to bed now?” Arthur was growing impatient, though part of him knew that Merlin didn’t usually go on like this for no reason. He almost turned back to the camp, but Merlin kept walking and he kept following on instinct, if anything.

“No,” Merlin sighed again, “Because there's another part of the story that you haven't heard.

“Really?”

“When Bruta was on his deathbed,” Merlin continued, “he asked to be taken deep into the forest. There, with the last of his strength, he thrust his sword into a rock. If his lineage was ever questioned, this would form a test. Only a true king of Camelot could pull the weapon free.” Arthur stopped walking and stared at Merlin curiously.

“Are you making this up?” He asked abruptly.

“Of course not.” Merlin chuckled. He continued walking, leaving Arthur to try and figure out if he was lying or not. Arthur kept following him.

“All right. If it's true, why haven't I heard this story?” He asked, doubtfully.

“Well, history isn't really your strong point, is it?” Merlin chuckled again, teasing once again.

“And where is this rock?”

“Oh, it was lost many years ago during the Great Purge, but,” Merlin paused to look at Arthur, “I've managed to find it.”

“I've never heard so much rubbish in my entire life,” Arthur laughed, finally.

“Are you calling Gaius a liar?” Merlin laughed too, just a little.

“No, I'm calling you an idiot,” Arthur countered, finally sinking into the familiar as well.

“What's that then?” Merlin smirked Arthur followed Merlin's gaze and settled on the sword, stuck in the stone as Merlin had described. They walked closer to it and a crowd of Camelot knights and people came from the trees, surprising Arthur. Merlin smiled, his plan had worked. Arthur glanced back at him and caught sight of Merlin’s beaming proud expression. He wanted to keep that expression on Merlin’s face forever

“What the hell are you playing at?” Arthur questioned.

“I'm proving that you are their leader and their king,” Merlin said proudly.

“That sword is stuck fast in solid stone,” Arthur argued doubtfully, realizing Merlin’s plan.

“And you're going to pull it out.” Merlin said firmly.

“Merlin, it's impossible.”

“Arthur, you're the true king of Camelot.” 

Arthur glanced back at the crowd of people watching them before looking back at Merlin. He knew from the look in Merlin’s eye that he wouldn’t back down. “Do you want me to look like a fool?”

Merlin bit back a retort of _ well yes _, before continuing, “No, I'm going to make you see that Tristan's wrong; you aren't just anyone, you are special. You and you alone can draw out that sword.” Merlin, of course, believed in Arthur above anything,

Arthur drew his own sword and stuck it in the ground before glancing at Merlin. “You better be right about this.” He approached the stone slowly. He looked up at the crowd hesitantly, not wanting to disappoint them again, then placed both hands on the hilt. He tried to pull it up, but the sword wouldn’t move, just as he suspected.

“You have to believe, Arthur,” Merlin interjected. Arthur pulled at the sword again, arms shaking with effort, but still nothing happened. Merlin glanced at the crowd and saw them all watching Arthur intently. “You're destined to be Albion's greatest king.” Arthur let go of the sword, ready to give up, but Merlin spoke from behind him. “Nothing, not even this stone can stand in your way.” Arthur remembered the look on Merlin’s face when they had entered the clearing, he looked at the faces of his people, and he wanted to earn their pride. He positioned himself, placing one hand on the swords hilt and closing his eyes. “Have faith.” Merlin murmured.

Arthur lifted his chin, picturing their faces, Merlin’s face, and willed himself to believe. Unbeknown to him, Merlin’s eyes finally glowed and the sword was released from the stone. Arthur pulled it out and stared at it in awe. 

The people watched, shocked, until Leon spoke up. “Long live the king!” He exclaimed. Suddenly the chant echoed through the clearing as Arthur thrust the sword into the air triumphantly. He glanced at Merlin, who smiled at him, and Arthur came to his own startling realization. _ He loved Merlin. _ He was a complete dollophead but he couldn’t do it without him and _ he loved him _. 

* * *

“What about the drawbridge?” Arthur asked, standing around with his knights. 

“Well manned.” Leon replied.

“As are the northern gates.” Percival added, as though he had foreseen Arthur’s next question. Arthur almost swore in desperation.

“The battlements on the south side?” Arthur knew the castle better than anyone, he had lived there all his life, he played there, fought there, trained there. It was his home all his life, he knew it like the back of his hand. Unfortunately so did Morgana.

“Arthur, even if we can get inside, she has an army.”

“And we have what? A few hundred?” Arthur almost swore again but he steeled himself. This had to work. He would save Camelot. It was his home, they were his people. 

“And they still outnumber us,”

“Yeah but only three to one.” Arthur argued stubbornly. Leon chuckled in the background. He had known Arthur the longest, he had seen that one coming from a mile away.

“And you think they’ll fight?” Isolde interjected, sceptically.”

“Well they’ll fight for Arthur.” Leon defended.

“It’s not me they fight for. It’s Camelot.” Merlin almost scoffed in the background.

“No Arthur,” Leon voiced the argument Merlin didn’t, “It is you that people love, and you that they will lay down their lives for. I know that I would ride into the mouth of hell for you.”

“And I.” Percival agreed. Tristan and Isolde exchanged surprised looks.

“And I.” Merlin voiced, causing Arthur to catch his eye. 

A thousand words seemed to pass between them in that moment. It steeled Arthur’s resolve and strengthened everything he believed. He drew his sword, hardly breaking eye contact, “Into the mouth of hell it is.” He could do it, he hoped. He had his knights, and somehow more importantly he had Merlin. He wanted to believe that could be enough, so it would be.

Planning had taken its toll on Arthur. He was exhausted by the time nightfall hit, wandering around the camp almost aimlessly. His mind was a little fuzzy until Merlin jogged up behind him. “You all right?” Merlin's voice cut through the fog and cleared Arthur’s head.

“Yes.”

“Do you think there are too many of them?” Merlin questioned. Arthur was stubborn, Merlin knew better than anyone. He’d never admit his concerns to the knights, especially in front of Tristan, but Merlin knew they were there. He could see it in Arthur’s eyes as they planned. 

“Southrons are men like you and me. Men we can fight. But Morgana…” Arthur shook his head, sighing, “Her power is so great and we’ve got nothing to answer it with.” 

“I never finished Gaius’s story,” Merlin piped up. He wouldn’t let Arthur doubt himself, he’d make up a thousand old stories.

“Not now, Merlin, please.”

“Will you just listen?” Merlin put his hand on his hips, sighing. Arthur was too tired to argue with him in that moment. He knew Merlin wouldn’t be telling him this if it weren’t for a reason. Merlin believed in him, Arthur knew it but in that moment his need to hear it was crushing.

“When the sword was thrust into the stone, the ancient king foretold that one day it would be freed again at a time when Camelot needed it most. The man who freed it would unite the land of Albion and rule over the greatest kingdom the world has ever known. That man is you, Arthur.” Arthur’s brow furrowed and Merlin smiled softly. Gods how he loved him.

“You’re making this up.”

“Why would I do that? Your heads already as big as your waist.” Merlin chuckled. There was something in Arthur’s eye that made him continue, “I believe it though. And I believe in you. I always have.” Arthur's chest felt lighter and he revelled in it for a moment. Taking in the proud look in Merlin’s eye. He glanced at his sword, considering it before letting out a sigh. 

“That may be true,” He took a shuddering breath, “But we’re still no match for her magic. We have only a few hundred men and no way to protect against her power. My father always taught me that magic was evil, and so were all those who practised it, and yet now it seems to be our only hope.” Suddenly it was all just pouring out of him. He was so tired. “Maybe magic isn’t evil, I’ve seen it be good, it’s the reason I’m even here at all. But then it also killed my mother. Maybe it’s just corruptive, who knows, but we stand no chance at defeating Morgana alone.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Merlin interjected softly. He had to tell Arthur, he knew it in that moment, and it broke his heart. 

“Merlin-” Arthur started to argue.

“Arthur,” Merlin interrupted. He took a deep breath, “You don’t have to worry about that, I will take care of it.”

“What are you going to do, Merlin?” Arthur asked incredulously. He had no idea what had gotten into Merlin in that moment.

Merlin took a great shuddering breath and stepped closer to Arthur. There was a humoured glint in his eye and Merlin was lost in it. He studied Arthur’s face, trying to commit to memory the way he was looking at him now. Tired but at the same time awake and so impossibly full of life. There was trust in his eyes and Merlin clung to it, the thought of never seeing it again crushed him. But Arthur needed to know, he couldn’t doubt himself or they really would fail. Merlin steeled his resolve and, with a last look at Arthur’s smiling face, lowered his voice, bowed his head and spoke his truth. “I have magic.” Arthur froze, his smile slipping. “I use it for you, Arthur. Only for you.”

“Merlin…” Arthur breathed, almost unconsciously. He wanted to believe it was a trick, but he looked in Merlin’s eyes and he knew it wasn’t. “Why did you never tell me?”

“You would have chopped my head off,” Merlin tried to joke, but his heart was heavy. Arthur would never look at him the same way again, he’d never trust him. He knew, he’d always known, that this day would come but he had never expected to love Arthur so much when it did.

“That’s what worried you?” Arthur asked quietly. His mouth was hardly moving, he was hardly even aware he was speaking at all. Merlin having magic went against everything he had ever been taught about magic. He had always been taught that sorcerers were evil and yet here stood Merlin. Clumsy, stupid, brilliant Merlin. Suddenly he was overwhelmingly tired, his mind was spinning and the ground seemed to sway. 

“Arthur, I can sneak into Camelot and disable Morgana’s magic. It may be only temporary but it might be enough to let us defeat her.”

“You can’t just go sneaking into Camelot, we wouldn’t be here if you could, Merlin. It’s too dangerous.”

“I’ll use magic,” Merlin argued in a loud whisper, “She’ll never even know it was me.” 

“Merlin-”

“It could be our only chance Arthur. I’m going to do it. You can put me on trial for it when we get back to Camelot if you wish. I’ll be arrested for sorcery anyway.” And with that Merlin stormed off, leaving Arthur reeling in his wake. 

That night, as he’d planned, Merlin snuck into Camelot and planted an effigy under Morgana’s bed that would take her magic. He’d disguised himself as the Old Man, the face Morgana associated with the name Emrys. With Agravaine dead there had been no one to correct Morgana’s theory. Morgana had seen him and panicked and Merlin knew the sight of him would cause her more paranoia than he could imagine. When he’d returned to the camp he was exhausted. He’d collapsed into sleep under a tree only to be woken up a short while later by Arthur.

“Wakey wakey,” Arthur snapped his fingers in Merlin’s face as he stared off into space. “You look as though you’ve been up half the night.” He seemed determined to pretend that Merlin hadn’t said anything last night, and Merlin didn’t know what to make of it. The fact of the matter was that, from what Arthur could tell, Merlin didn’t have an evil bone in his body.

“I was,” Merlin gave Arthur a look before adding, “Couldn’t sleep.”

“I thought you said you had faith in me?” Arthur joked. He couldn’t hate him, he’d realized after hours of tossing and turning. He needed Merlin. Merlin had been by his side for so long Arthur wasn’t entirely sure how to function without him anymore. And yet, there was a distance between them now. Arthur couldn’t help but think back to everything his father had ever told him about sorcerers. But then he’d look at Merlin, who’d been beside him since the beginning, and found he could scarcely believe any of it. But he had to be careful. He loved Merlin, he knew that now, but he couldn’t let that cloud his judgement. Not again. 

Merlin was confused, for once he didn’t know what Arthur was thinking. But he had spent all night dreading the look in Arthur’s eyes that morning and found it had been much the same as the night before. There was a glimmer of apprehension in Arthur’s eyes, but there was trust there too. So much trust. He wouldn’t let that opportunity go to waste. “Whatever gave you that idea” He answered back. Arthur shrugged and smiled at him and Merlin felt like his chest could have burst from relief. Arthur went off to talk to Tristan and Isolde, presumably to say goodbye, but it seemed they planned on staying around. Merlin watched proudly as Arthur left them with a nod, he knew they’d see Arthur for who he really was. 

Arthur had stepped away for a moment to escape the commotion of the camp and the battle planning. He needed to clear his head. He drew his new sword, admiring the inscription and feeling the balance. He thought of the moment he’d pulled it from the stone, seeing his people look on him with admiration and pride. Even thought he’d managed to let Morgana take Camelot in the first place. He heard a rustling in the bushes behind him before he heard someone speak.

“Arthur,” He registered it as Guinevere’s voice and turned, half in shock. He wasn’t sure who he’d expected. “If anything happens to us, I want you to know…”

“Guinevere--”

“I understand why you can’t forgive me. I don’t know why I did what I did. But I am sorry for the hurt it caused you.” Gwen walked away, leaving Arthur to consider what she had said.

When the time came, Arthur and his men armed themselves and took place outside the borders of Camelot. Arthur swung his sword forward, signalling for them to move out. The knights split off into groups and the fighting started. Arthur fought his way through the Southrons fiercely, holding his still injured ribs in the moments between. Merlin was never far from him, following through the wreckage. He made sure the Southrons were down for good. 

Outside the council room, Arthur and his party took out the last of the guards. “Whatever happened to the idea of finding a bit of land and settling down?” Isolde quipped to Tristan as Arthur walked past.

Arthur stood next to Merlin and looked at his new sword. “You know this thing’s not half bad.” 

“Thought you might like it.” Arthur chuckled as everyone regained their breath and composure. They stood ready to enter the council chambers, where the worst of Morgana’s guards would be. 

“Ready?” Arthur asked.. Everyone nodded and took a breath. 

“For the love of Camelot!” They shouted and charged in, only to skid to a stop when they saw that the room was only occupied by Morgana, who was lounging on the throne, and one man. 

“Welcome, dear brother,” Morgana said airily, “It’s been far too long.” She stood and walked toward them, continuing. “I apologise if you had a difficult reception. It’s hard to know who to trust these days.” She stopped in the middle of the room, looking at Arthur expectantly. Arthur approached slowly, holding his sword in an open hand. She watched his hand closely and he slid the sword back into his belt for the first time since they arrived. He met her in the middle, studying her closely.

“What happened to you Morgana?” Arthur asked softly. The look in Morgana’s eye was almost regretful as she studied him in return. Hurt was plain on both their faces. “I thought we were friends.”

“As did I.” Morgana’s voice was soft, but then it hardened like steel, “But alas we were both wrong.”

“You can’t blame me for my father’s sins.” Arthur argued.

“It's a little late for that. You’ve made it perfectly clear how you feel about me and my kind.” Arthur’s thoughts shifted to Merlin and the look of fear in his eyes the night before. He could almost feel Merlin shift on his feet behind him, he fought the urge to look at him. “You're not as different from Uther as you'd like to think.” 

“Nor are you.”

“I’m going to enjoy killing you, Arthur Pendragon.” Morgana sneered, “Not even Emrys can save you now.” Arthur drew his sword and Morgana smirked. “Your blades cannot stop me.” Merlin braced himself silently, unnoticed by Morgana as she exclaimed, “_ Hleap on bæc! _”

The room stood still, but nothing happened. Arthur stood, still ready for an attack, as Morgana looked confused. Morgana tried again, raising her hand for strength. There was a quiver of fear in her voice as nothing happened once again. Arthur realised Merlin’s plan had worked with a slight rush of pride but he was overcome by sadness as Morgana’s state.

“Not so powerful now, my lady.” Arthur said sadly. Morgana’s guard, who’d been standing off to the side until now, pulled her behind him and she took off running. “After her!” Arthur exclaimed, and Merlin and Gwen took off in the same direction. Arthur struggled to fight Morgana’s guard. His ribs were screaming in pain with every movement. The guard knocked him down, disarming him, and raised his sword for the final blow. Arthur thought of Merlin. Before the guard could make his move, Isolde stabbed him in the back. He spun around, slicing Isolde as he dropped dead. Arthur realized what had happened when he saw the look in Isolde’s eyes. He rushed forward to help her, Tristan at his heels.

Merlin and Gwen returned to the council room to see Tristan holding Isolde to him with Arthur crouched in front of them. 

“Our dreams…” Isolde trailed off.

“Isolde, don’t.” Tristan said softly.

“I wish…”

“I wish too.”

“Hold me.” Isolde’s voice quivered with fear. Tristan held her closer and her eyes drifted shut. He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her before burying his face in her hair, sobbing quietly. Arthur’s gaze drifted up to look at Merlin who looked up to meet his gaze slowly. Merlin could see the guilt in Arthur’s eyes. They held each other’s gaze silently. Gwen looked between the two of them and nodded to herself, understanding. 

* * *

Later that day, Merlin set to work cleaning Arthur’s chambers, which had been completely ransacked. He set a chair upright at the table as Arthur entered. Merlin watched him inspect the room sadly. “It will take some time.” He said quietly.

“Well you’ll take care of it,” Arthur chuckled. Merlin smiled at him, once again trying to memorise the look on Arthur’s face, here, before the inevitable.

Merlin sighed, “Arthur, if you want to put me on trial for sorcery… I can leave. I’ll go back to Ealdor. You don’t have to see me again.” Merlin’s heart ached at the idea as he watched Arthur’s face expectantly.

“Merlin, I don’t want to do that. Quite the opposite actually. I want you to stay.” Merlin looked at him confusedly and Arthur took an involuntary step towards him. “Merlin…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Merlin interrupted, fiddling with the sleeves of his jacket nervously.

“Everything that’s happened between us…”

“Arthur please, I know I lied to you.”

“I don’t care.” Arthur grabbed Merlin’s hands to stop his twitching. Merlin met his eye cautiously. “I couldn’t bear to lose you.” Arthur said heavily. Merlin smiled a little, but Arthur could see the apprehension in his eyes. “For god’s sake Merlin,” he chuckled, squeezing Merlin’s hand softly. He took a step closer to Merlin. “I’m not going to banish you or put you on trial, I couldn’t.” Standing this close, he could see the different shades of blue in Merlin’s eyes, the hints of gold. He could see the dirt smudged on Merlin’s brow and cheek and the faint splatter of blood on his face. 

Merlin was confused, to say the least. When he had told Arthur of his magic, he had half expected him to kill him on the spot or banish him right then and there. He certainly never expected Arthur to speak to him again, let alone look him in the eye as he did now. He felt as through the rug would be pulled out from under him at any moment, that Arthur would reveal it was a trick. But then, he could have killed Merlin right there and Merlin would have been okay. Arthur’s hands were warm on his and his gaze was gentle. Merlin could have died happy there. 

Arthur lifted his hand and wiped the dirt from Merlin’s cheek softly. He saw the confusion in Merlin’s eyes and laughed. “You really are an idiot, aren’t you Merlin?”

“Must be from all the time I’ve spent with you,” Merlin quipped, instinctively. 

Arthur’s hands cradled Merlin’s face softly as he threw his head back laughing. “I could have you thrown in the stocks for that.”

“You could try but what’s to say I stay there this time, I could just magic my way out, what’s the harm now?” Merlin chuckled, “Besides given the state of the castle they probably aren’t even there.”

“I’ll have them make new ones.”

“I’ll break them.”

“Sometimes I think you forget who I am.”

“You’re a prat. And a royal one.” 

Arthur shook his head laughing. “What am I going to do with you, Merlin?” Merlin shrugged, smiling. Arthur’s hands were still resting on his face and Merlin’s had found a place on Arthur’s waist, almost involuntarily. “You’re lucky I love you, you clotpole.”

“That’s my w--” Arthur cut off Merlin’s indignant muttering as he surged forward to press his lips to Merlin’s. Merlin smiled into the kiss, deciding he was quite happy Arthur didn’t kill him. He’d much rather be doing this for eternity.

“I love you too, _ dollophead _,” Merlin murmured as they pulled apart. Arthur scoffed and kissed him again. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably not the best thing I've written but I'm pretty proud of it. I wanted to use the lines from the actual magic reveal because I do love that confession but I like this idea a lot too.


End file.
